TO DIE FOR
Wednesday Oct. 23, 2013
You could be sad, sorry, down and draggin’ or alone.
Or make it a party?
I’d like a life to die for, envy of everyone.
I’d like a death to live for, envy of everyone, but I’m in no rush!
What do you want?
We all get one. What do I/you/we wish for?
We are taught, socialized and normalized to think of death as something involving black cloth, black cars, sad music and tears.
It is the most common fear, and for many, 2nd only to public speaking!
How many times have we heard, ‘I’d rather die’ … and wondered, what!?
We revere life, but most people are barely walking through it. We celebrate life as we wave good-bye to people when their life is over but don’t celebrate enough while they are here, while we are with them, the great opportunities wasted . . .
So many causes, so many people die in hospitals, so many in intersections, so many alone, so many can see it coming – so many have no inkling at all. In a flash, their last chapter closes . . .
8.37 people per thousand (approx.), die each year. In a city of a million that is 8,370 people (approx.) in Calgary, in their last year of life. Most don’t know it. Many do. Whether car accidents or cancer, birth defect or old age, self-destruction, suicide, wearing out, worn out, left out in the cold . . .
Birth and death, bookends between which we shelve and store the mess and dangerous part of life, parts we avoid thinking about, talking about – every chance we get. I had three focuses on end-of-life planning yesterday; my dad, my friend, and me. Not to fret, nothing dramatic or new happened. And the day before, hearing about someone I’ve met but don’t know very well, who had a bad-news MRI report with biopsy to follow. Yikes! Just when people are putting their lives into a new gear, a new route, a new panorama . . .
It’s been six years since a new cardiologist quizzed my dad ‘if his affairs were in order’, giving him a couple of years at most. Yesterday as we left our cardiac clinic check-in with an OK bill of health – I was wondering if that warning, that prediction, was worthwhile, if it had lengthened or shortened his life, if it had made a contribution of some sort. I’m still pondering. His biggest issues are not new or forbearers of death. He doesn’t sleep as well as he would like but he keeps ignoring advice to not drink coffee in the evening. He is quite inactive physically due to being frail, elderly and having a bad ticker. Some parts don’t work so well … like digestion, but he carries on in consultation with doctors and nurses, a test here, a medication tweak there, he just keeps bouncing along. Most days are good. Some not. Some are great. Yesterday, perhaps because it was an outing with his son, was a pretty good one.
As I was driving back to my home office to cram my whole day’s work into an afternoon, I was on the phone with Gary, talking about a mutual acquaintance who died disappointed and angry last week, about Gary’s plans – he is moving back to Edmonton very soon, planning trips and fun ---- and we laughed a lot. I called an old friend in Edmonton to discuss some potential arrangements ---- and we laughed a lot.
Later, driving to a business social function, there was a fellow on the radio talking about death and preparation for end-of-life issues. He was talking about the prevalence of fear and dread about something that is so natural, unavoidable and going to impact us all. Yet why is it that death and dieing holds such negative connotation in our world . . .
We talk about life too much.
We don’t talk about death enough.
We should laugh more when we do.
Gary is teaching me that. Thanks, so much.
This might be my dad’s last year of life. I’ve thought that for 6 yrs. now.
This might be Gary’s last year of life. He’s been given official notice/prognosis, so it must be true! He’s planning like it will be. He’s planning with daring and verve, with laughter and a little of that reckless abandon attitude that looks so good on some people . . .
I’m not planning.
I’m not going!
Not this year.
I know, I know, I’m not immune, so I need to think about it too.
Here’s my plan: I will laugh more. I will plan audaciously more. I will celebrate more. I will treasure this year – and these two guys in my life – who are doing their best to make sure this year is the best it can possibly be. They are doing that every day. Facing their inevitable demise with far more calm, dignity and lightness than one might expect. I think that’s a good thing to be watching, so I’m watching and helping with great interest.
We could all do that, living each day of each year as if there won’t be more – not to be sad or morose, but to suck every bit of life and living out of every day. Especially the tough ones.
Mark Kolke
292,796
column written/ published from Calgary
morning walk: 5C / 42F, cats and rabbits lurking in shadows avoiding Gusta’s romping, early morning drizzle subsided, leaves – wet but not soggy – litter our route through Haddon Road . . .
